Lazy
by CouldBeC12H22O11
Summary: Yasuo, the Unforgiven, Samurai of the Wind was never sure what life held for him, let alone what his future was like in the looming halls of the Institute of War. Close encounters with a variety of champions will change the orbit of Yasuo's world, as fate would have it he collided with the lunar goddess Diana.


Lazy. A word she had not been for many years. Lethargy had not visited her body since warmer days. All that remains is a cold calculated woman. So upon hearing the news, the champion of the wind was coming to the institute of war, she expects a man of energy and gusto.

But now standing face to face with his lackadaisical brown eyes and windswept hair Diana's perpetual frown seemed to deepen. Snarling she spun on her heels and her long moonlight colored hair snapping at his torso as she furiously strides away.

Over the next month she makes a point to ignore the man. Up and down the halls of the institute of war she turns in the opposite direction when she hears the soft footfalls of the samurai. Not many know but each section of Valoran has a dormitory hall for its champions. Demacia, Noxus, Bandle City, Ionia, and so forth. All the halls convene at a central gathering point of a communal lounge. It was composed of several couches and lounge chairs with accompanying coffee tables.

He at first wasn't bothered by the lunar woman's obvious dislike. But her quiet intensity piqued his calm world. She was pale like the midnight sun, but her rages were as red as an autumn harvest moon. Such is what brought this woman into his contemplative mind. As days pass and he quietly observes the world pass around him, and she is in the epicenter of the spinning chaos. He notices even when she sits with a book in hand, her world is not still. Energy seemed to amass around her sleek form. Such amazed him.

His first attempt to make nice with the lunar woman came after the last rift call of the day. She was gently cleaning a cut on her left palm, when supposedly buried gentlemanly manners surface from within him. Her silvery eyes snap upward at his presence and all he does is pointedly look toward her hand. In response her silver eyes sharpen to steel. Dagger like glares were directed towards him as he gestures. Tightening his lips, he extends his hands in a sign for the lady to relinquish the towel from her hands. Dipping it into the bowl of hot water and squeezing it out above her wound taking the excess blood off her hand. Then from a pocket in his pants he procured a small jar no larger than her palm. Opening it he gently rubs some of its contents into her cut.

"It's an ointment my grandmother had taught me to make. It speeds up the healing." He says it quietly, not out of lack of voice, but out of the respect for the pervasive silence. He recalls moments in his travels that he would watch the leaves fall as he ground herbs that would end up in the ointment.

So he decides a plan to talk on softer terms with the fascinating woman. He waits in the commons for the sun to set and people to return to their dorms, yet he finds she does not return to Rakkor's dormitory. He waits for a long while, watching the moon's slow waltz across the night sky. Then at the first pastel streaks of dawn he hears womanly footsteps echo in the hall. She looks disheveled. Her hair is a mess and her normal make up is absent. It is striking. Diana without her battle adornments, just a simple robe and sandals. He sits in shock but chokes out a small sleep well. Startled she gazes at him, her lips move a sliver upward and she softly replies,

"Rest well wind samurai Yasuo." He recoiled from her polite way of talking, and for once in a long time enjoys his name being said quietly. There are sparks is his belly and they forewarn him of a woman's danger. She then slowly passes him and enters her dorm, for what he assumes to be a couple of hours before the first rift call and the day begins.

He hardly sees her in the mid lane of the rift. She has seized the jungle, and he was fine with such events. Everything was smooth sailing until another piece of his humanity seemed to rise from the grave where all things had been buried, a man's lust. He had been fearlessly striding into battle when he felt the bite of her channeled moon energy smack him and her lithe body rushed into being and he was assaulted with her presence. His senses spun out of control.

Years of suppressing emotions was going to waste within the first month of appearing at the institute of war. The cold steel of her blade and eyes sliced into his core awakening the man that had been captive within. Primal movements captured his body, his samurai grace was not impaired but altered. It became wicked and untamed, his intensity like a tempest swirling and encasing the two in duel. Summoners twisting and turning their champions' bodies around one another, each fighting with brutality and no hints of remorse. His shoulder caught purchase in her stomach breaking her stance and such forcing her body to the dirt on the rift. Swiftly slicing through her armor and breaking skin he sees the pain register in her features. A feminine snarl that to any other person would seem wholly UN appealing, lurched desire from his veins. The unrestrained ferocity and pain was something only people of battle could appreciate. But her form began to fade to moonlight before he could begin to blink.

Left reeling from all his emotions he struggled to slide his mask of indifference on and regain his air of aloofness. The wind samurai's thoughts would replay moments of their duel gnawing at his mind, tantalizing him with all of the power he has, and the moon lady's lethal form. How his mind began to cloud the image with lust for power, and her in all her ferocity and womanly attributes. It seeped in like a hazy smoke diluting the original memory. But he sees her eyes with apparent clarity, the steeled looks pierce through the veil of lust.

After the day is through he has lost his serenity completely. Stalking through the tall arching corridors of the institute of war he scours high and low for the Lunari. Every room and nook has been checked and he is brimming with emotion. There is a storm brewing within him and he is going to spin out of control. By heavens decree he hears a woman's footsteps and he nearly attacks. The woman he is approached by too has white hair but hers is short and her name is not Diana, but Riven. But he is a slice of starved and delirious for a woman's attention. She notices his haze and is falsely flattered. She enters his personal space and he makes no move to remove her from it. He lets the woman intertwine with his body and lead him to a darker corner of the institute of war. Tainting the night with the naughty and wild and leaving a single blunt wound where her nail dug into his shoulder out of fits of passion. Yasuo slothenly reapplies his clothing and stumbles towards his room in the first glimpses of morning.

He only made it to one of the couches in the lounge before his body is spent and he can do no more. Black seemed to come alive and engulf his vision with one enormous bite.

Tender and tired footsteps follow a short while later, this time of the lady with the long moonlight colored hair. She sees his body haphazardly strewn about one of the couches and feels something dangerously like warmth of human emotion spark. Then recoiling of repulsion as she smells another woman plastered on his normal scent. Walking to the janitor's room to retrieve a copy of the Ionian dorm key Diana hefts his form up and slings him over her sleeker body. Slowly and gently maneuvering to the Ionian dorm she carefully props the door open and enters with his body still slung over hers. Carefully resting his body down on his bed she slips and a small smile cracks her mask and she stares sweetly at the resting man.

It was another five days before he speaks to her again. In his mind he is embarrassed by the actions he's performed. Diana is too embarrassed that she let her stone mask slip that one night and out of the cracks came adoration and care. But their interaction is sparked by a sinister force. The other silver haired woman's appearance during the lunch break.

Diana had been sitting with her fellow Rakkorans enjoying the delight of food in their bellies. Then Riven, by Aphrodite's nasty design, sensuously siddels up to Yasuo's side and in scandalous manners places her left hand on his upper thigh. Slight anger seeps out her mouth followed by quiet curses. Then like the best friend she is, Leona sees the shift right away. But she had never been informed of the little crush Diana had on the wind samurai. Her smile beams with happiness and mischief.

"So are you no longer adopting a moon centric theory ?" Leona jokingly prods. Taken back in extreme embarrassment that she was found acting like a little school girl Diana turns several shades of red. Burning her sunny brown eyes into her best friends silvery orbs Leona sharply juts her eyebrow upwards. Diana in response narrows her eyes into silver slits and wonders the ramifications of setting the sun champion on fire.

"Go offer him an apple or something, a man may like a prostitute but they love a woman." Leona quietly encourages. The Lunari woman softens her eyes truly appreciating her best friend, even if she was some over blown Solari.

Striding confidently across the mess hall the lady of the moon retrieves three Ionian pears and then redirects to her intended target. With feminine grace and politeness of the moon she tilts her lips upward and approaches her prey.

"I've heard these pears are high in antioxidants and vitamin a, but do they taste good?" Diana muses aloud.

"They're also high in fibers." Yasuo replies.

"Then allow me to share these splendid pears with you two this afternoon."

The other white haired woman seethes at the advances of the brilliant Lunari. Snatching the pear from her hands and sinking her teeth into the fruits flesh Riven glares. Yasuo on the other hand relishes in the contact with the moon woman, his brown eyes peer into her silver ones with lazy curiosity. Probing for any amount of amorous attraction, and his eyes loose the curious edge when all he finds is her calculated politeness. The steaming white haired woman feels the man's back muscles slacken and she seethes and sneers at the offending lunar woman. Catching the intense dislike being channeled towards her the Lunari slides her gaze over and microscopically pulls her lips up in a very faint victory smirk. But it was caught and Riven could not help but feel the true power of a queen on a chess board, and the uphill fight she was engaging on.

It was much later in the day, when each champion hands their body over to the summoners of the Institute of War, that Yasuo feels sparks of emotion come alive beneath the deep spell woven into his body. He feels his body transported to the summoners rift for the umpteenth time that day but he feels a deep magnetic pull from his mid lane. It's curious and his wandering nature pulls him onward. His strong legs walk a road many have walked before him and many will walk after him. Reaching his outer most tower drawing close to the center of the rift he feels the epicenter of the magnetic pull and there she stands. Feet apart bracing her frame, in defiance of the harsh sun beating the earth, but he muses she is personified defiance. Her moonlight hair wafting in the small breeze he brings with him where ever he walks on the rift and he locks his eyes with her as the climax of his head to toe perusal of her body.

He finally understands why the phrase stands as locking eyes with someone. Because this was two collisions of immense forces. His deep umber brown eyes being sharpened by the silvery steel of her irises. He feels her energy permeate to his core, the simple reactions produced from eye contact bring for this unrestrained storm of primitive chemistry within him. He feels battle and lust mixing. He feels the hunger seep into his smirk and dye his eyes. It invigorates his frame, striding headlong at the woman he draws for his sword desperately wanting to be intertwined by the heat of battle.

She surprisingly returns the intensity. His and her blood alight with battle. At the apex of their energies is where their blades clash. Violent and graceful, he and her, moon and wind, Yasuo and Diana. It's almost a narcotic when he feels her crescent strike hit his frame and he revels that parts of her are now a part of him. His sword takes small purchases in her armor and he steps into one of his strikes in an attempt to dominate their encounter. But she is lithe, and pivots backwards on her right foot so she forcefully elbows her opponent and he stumbles to the ground. In seconds she disarms him and he finds his arms pinned by knee and foot. He shivers in appreciation of her battle prowess. She leans her face in close to his ear enough to where he can feel her body heat radiate and whispers,

"Don't mistake me for a lady of the night, champion of the wind, I am the goddess of the Moon." Driving her blade into his abdomen she hears the first blood ring in her ears and releases a breath she didn't know she was holding. Standing brought the first wave of raw and untamed emotion. She felt his desire as if he had transferred it to her in their battle, and her heart was practically running a marathon each beat left a powerful quake in her ribcage. She feels the fimilar sensation of her summoner transporting her back to base and it's as if she is drenched by cold water. It harshly drew her back into reality and she greatly appreciates the cleansing.

By the end of the day Yasuo is returned to his normal lethargic state. Trudging to the mess hall for dinner he delights in the calmness of the Institute of War. The meal is eaten in solitude and that is a small blessing he counts until he sees something beautiful. One voluptuous green watermelon crowning the Noxian table. He muses that even some of the water melon would be heaven sent. But to meet his gaze there is Riven, ardently tracing his line of sight. As if scorned by his eyes she snarls but refuses to be confrontational. As if telepathically knowing he desperately yearns for the watermelon she stands up and dethrones the Noxian table. Carrying the prize to his table, Rivens eyes turn bashful and he sees the embarrassment draping her form.

"I needed an alibi and you were perfect at the second. But I misread you, I wasn't the, well I wasn't the map you were looking for to find your way I see that now. Yet I feel we could be friends. That sounds bad, I uh, I still feel as though we resonate on a platonic level," She stammers choking down a mix of emotions, but her mouth turns upward, "and I hereby present you Champion Yasuo with this perfectly plump and juicy watermeloan to enact our comradery."

He is pleasantly surprised," I thank you Riven, and uh well am thoroughly humbled by my misuse of you, and I extend the wishes to remain of sociable terms with you." He gratefully receives the watermelon and they spend the rest of the meal time quietly conversing about their days. It had started stiff but by the end they were amused and Riven looked at him smiled and said,

"The eastern exit make it there by 9:30 or you'll miss it!"

Taking her exit Riven gets up and provides no explanation but Yasuo suspects it's something important. Looking at the rune driven clock he gasps it was 9:15. All but flying out of the cafeteria (with the damn watermelon) Yasuo swiftly maneuvers the halls of the Institute of War gasping for beloved air when the clock hit 9:25.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He hears a distinctly feminine voice.

He loses his voice completely and just stares at the beautiful moon maiden. Gulping air down into his lungs he begins,

"I … hear that… uhh Rakkoran watermelons have a… lot of… iron." He manages to breath out still coursing with shock he was given the location of where Diana goes for the night.

Softly chuckling she recalls their interactions at lunch the other day,

"Yes they do, they're also very high in vitamin C." She chimes. He pauses for a second taking in the sight of a calm Diana. She was elegantly draped with a modest chiton robe as pearly white as her long unrestrained moon colored hair, and she had on no shoes but around her ankle was a small leather bracelet with two charms. Noticing his fixated stare on her charms she explained,

"It's from Leona and Pantheon, but first follow me, I am growing restless in these halls." She pushes open the doors to reveal a small grove of maple and oak trees with a clearing a ways in. She passes him, a silent command for him to follow her into the night. She was syncing her lunar energy with the twilight world around her. Small fireflies danced around her and he watched as the world practically bowed before their queen, their goddess of the moon. He was in a silent but reverent awe of her quiet serenity. They came to the edge of the clearing and he then noticed a small chest to their right. She turned to him and gave a soft smile. He was once again amazed at how profoundly beautiful she was. This woman was nowhere near the cold and resentful woman he clashed blades with but he saw the same calculated intelligence but here she was without any other annoyances. Here she just Diana, but she was some much more too.

"I practice tai-chi out here. It calms my mind. An Ionian like yourself taught me how to find my peace. She showed me how to balance my rage and tempest like emotions. I just couldn't stop the habit. So I come here every night." She breaks his mental trance.

"I'm not here to intrude on your time, I can go."

"No I brought you here wind samurai because you have so many unanswered emotions. Let me share the art of tai-chi with you as well."

"As you wish…Diana." He carefully tests her name out, and finds it's a lovely name.

"Good. We can do this and then I want to dig into that watermelon."

They commence with slow stretching and breathing exercises. She guides him through her personal course and he agrees it does quiet the demons trapped within him. She then teaches him a form called paragraph one. He watches her go through it once, she moves as if she were only made of soft beams of moonlight. Her ethereal form shifts effortlessly from foot to foot carefully rooting and channeling her natural energies in a slow sequence of stances. He not for the first time this night marvels at the puzzle of a woman. She then closes her form and he quietly says,

"That was beautiful."

She is taken off guard and her cheeks flush a soft red,

"Thank you… Yasuo. How about we dig into that watermelon?"

"I think that's a fantastic idea."

He slices open the fruit with gusto passing her a section of the red fruit when he sees the sparkle of her ankle charms and see she has wonderfully applied red toe nail polish. He inquisitively stares at her feet. She sees his stare wander back to her charms and she answers,

"It was the day Leona made amends on the behalf of the Solari, and Pantheon on the half of Rakkor. She and Pantheon forged two cliché little charms of a sun and a cake since neither are big on creativity. She said they were the connector to him and her. She produced two other bracelets one with a cake and a moon and the other with a sun and a moon. Handing me the sun and cake and Pantheon the sun and moon one. She claims it will represent each of us carrying the responsibilities of all of our collective past. I respect her in innumerable ways."

"Thank you, it's very lovely."

"You're welcome."

They shared silence not out of awkwardness of what to say but that each person understands the importance of silence. Because the unsaid can be so loud. They watched the moon leap over the sky quietly and peaceably feel the energy of the world move around them. Yasuo thinks that for the first time since he has been at the Institute of War that this is the first time he's seen true stillness about Diana. Then he is humbled; he sees a small fragment of the true goddess of the moon and he feels undeserving of her presence. As if she was clairvoyant she speaks,

"I greatly appreciate your company Yasuo, I have enjoyed sharing tonight with you. I would be delighted if you would ever grace me with your presence again if you can stand the sleeplessness it provides."

He stares deep into her moon eyes and is profoundly shocked, they were reflecting the heavens. It was a microcosmic scene of the night sky orbiting in her eyes. But he looks again and he finds they're just normal eyes. He begins,

"I would often not sleep on my roaming across Valoran."

"It's my very favorite curse." She replies.

He simply chuckles. She stands and wipes the grass off her chiton and it is a silent signal they must return to their real world. He stands and they walk together back to the eastern gate and she opens the small functional door. They step inside the door and he turns to face her. Her cheeks dusting red by the abrupt wall of man blocking her from the commons. Umber eyes gaze into silvery orbs and she is slightly paralyzed by the soft connection. Breath catching in her throat as she feels his arms tenderly envelope her form. She waits a second carefully savoring the fragile hug before she tenderly returns the favor and wraps her arms around his torso. She feels him drop his head to rest on her shoulder and she feels the expansion and reduction of his chest as he breaths and she loves how incredibly human he is. He increases the pressure of his body a little and she softly grunts under the odd amount of weight. Staggering as his weight seems to waver as he rocks back and forth ever so slightly. When it hits her, he's asleep. Smiling she feels déjà vu overcome her as she hefts his body up again and walks to the janitors room to acquire a Ionian key to return his slumbering form. She lays his body down on the bed smiling for a second before she sees his eyebrows knit together.

Curiously she unconscientiously goes to smooth out the growing lines in his forehead as if they were clay. Shockingly they were, the skin unwrinkled beneath her touch and she marvels as his body loses tension all at once. Her breath hitches and her heart furiously beats. It was a small miracle to watch and she felt blessed at the scene. She softly tip toes out of the Ionian dorm and happily cavorts back to her waiting bed in Rakkor's hall.

Days roll by at the Institute of War and life is at an upbeat pace. Nothing extraordinary but nothing to dull either. Yasuo and Diana slowly grow closer and the one of more extraordinary events that comes to the champions is the Promotional Gala. It was a time for the wealthy, the politicians, the leaders, and the Royalties of Valoran to come view her champions. Also to ensure the peace is being held on the Fields of Justice.

All ladies and gentlemen of the rift were being whisked away to be primped and prepped, to become champions of fashion. The first victim was Malzahar, a wild man came rushing to the summoners demanding he needed Malzahar for important business and so the match was called. As the poor man was being dragged away people could swear the man was mumbling about how he was not going to be paid enough. Next was Zyra and Varus and past that all matches were canceled for the next three days and since then champions were dropping like flies. All that was left to do after they were corralled into their dorms and common area was to be immature young adults or incredibly lazy beings. Many chose the first option, and having a moment of silence when another was dragged away. Food was delivered in portioned bagged lunches and dinners. The whole fiasco of prep lasted two days and hours until the event and the main Gates would open and civilians would flood in to glimpse at their champions.

Yet no champions were allowed to see each other until go time. The higher ups said they would 'ruin their gala attire' they were probably right. But it lead to approximately 90 ish rooms used for sequestering champions. (The creature esque champions who could not be civilized were not allowed to roam the Institute at any times and were always put in their own section where they could roam. They had very different lives.) Then like prisoners being released their doors opened and they joined the party.

The dazzling lights and glamourous and enormous ballroom amazed every person walking through the entrance. The grand columns, immense chandeliers, the elegant tapestries festooning the walls was a sight to behold. Then there were the people. From the clean cut militaristic officials who run the Institute of War to the senior summoners who coordinate all rift related processes. Then the vast array of 90 or so champions who all were acting like unscrupulous 20 year olds lewdly grinning at each other still surprised to see each other in anything but armor.

Leona carefully maneuvers through the crowd of conversing champions trying to locate her moon crazy bestie. When she stumbles upon an intriguing conversation.

"You have to tell her that she looks elegant tonight, not pretty not beautiful, but elegant also don't say classy. You'll sound like a tard."

"Can I say anything?"

"You can say plenty of things, but if you talk to her tonight try and make it seem like you don't only think with your penis mmm hey are you listening dick brain?"

"No."

"God bless all that is free in Valoran, blow boy get your head in the game,"

"Isn't that rhetorical of what you were just saying?"

"Sweet mother of Noxus. You are an incompetent samurai."

"I wandered as a profession. Not a god damn charmer."

Leona could only giggle at the twos antics and pray that her bestie had a decently modest dress or else she was glad the sun would not be subject to their activities. Sighing she pulled up her poufy ball gown skirts, which were a deep lavender with many ornate stiches and seems put into the skirt with a simple sweetheart neckline and matching lavender long sleeves. The champion of the sun was then rerouting to find her silly lover somewhere in the shifting throng of people.

Happily she hears the hearty laugh of her lover before he sees him, she also hears the other Rakkoran bantering with him. She breathes out and smiles, her people were together, they were their own happy little tribe. Breakable, at times but Leona knew better than to believe that they would ever let the past repeat itself. So she cherishes the little moments her tribe can all be together; happy and healthy.

"Markus!" Leona yells.

She faintly hears a, well shit you're gonna get it, before she finds her way and sees an absolutely stunning mantheon in a rich brown ensemble with waistcoats, and he looks decently fancy. Somewhere deep in her brain she's impressed the primpy prep people could wrangle her lover into anything resembling decent attire. But her best friend was another deal entirely, the design team exemplified her natural white motif and Leona feels like a proud older sister. Small tears well in her eyes as she traces the delicate white lace sleeves with her eyes to the solid white sweetheart lines still covered in white lace and the stark contrast of the black ribbon wrapping around her waist and then there's an explosion of skirt, and Leona think Diana looks beautiful in ball gowns too.

"Sweet Solari! Who the hell are these people?" Leona giggles as she runs to embrace her tribe. They greet the incoming sun goddess and disintegrate into merry conversation, sarcastic quips, and lively humor. As Markus returns with the first round of champagne the head director of the Institute of War takes to the stage awkwardly trying to be sociable, he clears his throat and his stature resembles the figure Atlas, before he bends to take the world on his shoulders. The burly man begins,

"I welcome all the guests here tonight and cordially invite you to mingle with all of Valoran's exemplary champions she has produced. To begin the night the band will open with the Royal Waltz, thank you very much and enjoy your evening."

The crowd silently watches him walk down from the small stage. He motions for the floor to clear so the night can open with the Waltz. That set the crowd into spurs of motion and people reverently parted and shuffled to the edges of the room for the people representing their nation-state to come to the dance floor. Diana gasps as she sees Ashe and Tryndamere leading the promenade of Champion duos including but not limited to, LeBlanc and Swain, Caitlyn and Vi, Jarvan IV and Shyvanna, and Leona and Markus. Diana lets a smirk valiantly tug at her lips as she sees her fellow champions walk onto the floor. Then akin to a tidal wave sound crashes into the room and the dancers begin breaking inertia. Melodies swimming through the air and feet twirling in time with the enchanting rhythm.

Then streams of people began to join the dance, patrons and odd champions all locking in their feet to the pace of the music. Diana stonily stared to the crowd when she breathed in sharply. She could hardly breathe as she watched a man walk towards her. Diana has rarely experienced true fear, but this was one of the sparse moments. She saw him, Jagen, leader of Rakkor intently walking to her. She finally makes eye contact and she knows what he's going to say, he makes sure he will have to say nothing by his timing. He stands before her and silently offers his hand wordlessly demanding hers. Then the world outside of the man of her nightmares deafens. Her footsteps don't even register in her ears as they walk hand in hand out to the moving throng of twirling people. Her blood runs colder than usual as they commence the dance. Memories assault her mind, memories from another life before the fall. He knows too, a small sneer could be seen in his eyes, and she exhales. The sound of anguish rings in her ears, it was his son, oh it was his son. She killed him, the Rite of Kor, that awful day. She smells the flesh of freshly slaughtered teenagers. Feeling her heart leap in her chest, the memory makes her relive the brutality of the silence of the stadium of people who thought she was a play thing for his son. They all thought she was going to die but he was pompous and died. She killed his son, and the memory always ends when she looked up in the silent area to his eyes of impassable stone. Déjà vu hit her like a percussionist clashing symbols together as she looked into his eyes of stone. Gasping as the song came to a fever pitch right before the end and her world freezes over from fear. His knees bent and they took everyone's attention as he dips Diana in an awe inspiring finale.

Leona feels the blood run from her veins as she glimpses the spectacle everyone is staring at. Diana and Jagen slowly rising from the dip. Then the tension becomes palpable before it breaks and people disperse and the musicians begin to play soft background music. Kicking aside manners she runs to Diana and Jagen but slows and straightens her stance bracing for the cursed man. She curtly greets him and he nods back. Markus slowly joins the small circle of silence,

"Pantheon, how are you?"

"I'm well, are you enjoying the Gala?"

"I am, I shared a dance with this lovely young lady."

"Sir, the lovely young lady is an all grown up Diana."

That begins the silence in the group again. But it was no easy silence. No one breathed. There were too many things looming over the last comment. Too many things about their past. But Jagen never moves to break the fear choking his champions, he just bows and walks away. In his wake the three champions think nothing and exhale not but each in shell shock. That single man rerouted their lives. Scarring them in un-mendable amounts from the beginning. The spell of fear disappears and the trio only blankly stare into each other's eyes a silent vow to never be that man. That together they would still be the battle hardened Rakkor but they would never let people lose their sanity before they've reached 10. Markus extending his arms around his ladies and pulling them in spurred them to life. Tightly drawing them into his chest and he dipped his head down to whisper,

"You're safe." And that was all they needed to hear before the sun rose in Leona's eyes and she merrily proposed round two of champagne cavorting away from the tribe to hunt down an unsuspecting waiter. Markus faced the shell shocked Diana and she stared to him for fraternal affection. He squeezed her shoulders into his chest and let out a deep hearty chuckle reverberating Diana's torso. She inquisitively continued her stare, and he smiles into his words,

"What's some old man going to do to the gorgeous champion of the moon? Nothing; because she's approximately 238,900 miles above some petty curmudgeon." He jests. Being the exact remedy she needs to find her feet,

"Thank you Markus."

"Thank you Diana, these moments remind me I need you guys as much as you need me. The sun and moon cannot orbit one and other without the Earth, and likewise all three need one and other need each other to stay together. So we all need each other," as he untucks his necklace from his collared shirt proudly, like a lion at the head of his pride, brandishes his small sun and moon charms.

Their sun comes barreling through the crowd waiter in close association via the vice like grip Leona had on his wrist. He came and delivered the group champagne and they sent him on his way with merry giggles and joyous cat calls. Pantheon jokingly says that the damn waiter can't take his spot as the manly man in her life, and the sun is reduced to joyous snorts and giggles. Then the crowd parts for the umpteenth time that night when a freight train of Riven comes barreling through using the poor wind samurai as her plow.

The dangerous Moses and frightened Red sea await the havoc one Riven and one very dizzy Yasuo can do,

"Diana… may I request the next dance?"

"You may and I might accept."

"Then Diana goddess of the moon I cordially ask you to dance with me."

"I'm delighted."

Then for the second time that night the goddess in white took to the dance floor but this time with the man from her dreams. A quick upbeat jive and the hall came alive again and bodies were moving around in ecstatic and kinetic motions. The Sun dauntingly kissing the last of the horizon line and the Moon boldly climbing in the sky when patrons decided to file out and the Institute of War would go back to being a place of battle. Yet her champions thought tonight they would party every last second.

The Lunari pulled her Ionian out to the grove and away from all the crazy noise. There they were together bathing in the richness of twilight. Listening to the songs of the nocturnal animals. She quietly speaks,

"I need to get out of this contraption." She walks over to the small chest and pulls out her chiton before she abashedly asks,

"Will you uh unzip my dress?"

He smiles gets up and places his hand on her shoulder and delicately begins to un-zip her dress. He hears the sharp intake of her breath as he unzips her dress. Then he hears a soft sob and when he looks upon her back, there are numerous scars. They are long and he can't immediately places their origins. Hesitantly he hands move to fully unzip her dress and he is drawn back to the long laceration marks. Methodically and magnetically his appendages his fingers trace over the lines. His large hands splay over the marks and he spins her body around and he gathers the woman into his arm. Removing the space between their bodies and it was as if they were attempting to fuse into one unanimous being. Tightly holding her to his chest the small droplets cascading and her sobs a ballad of her memories. It racked the mind, body, and soul. She looks up as she desperately attempts to recover her words and breath, but she feels her chest shaking.

Impulsively he begins to kiss her cheek whispering his travels of Valoran into her ear. Worshipping every bit of her battle worn skin on her neck and exposed shoulders. Romanticizing the rolling hills of Ionia, leading her through the rivers of Noxus and how they actually keep them clean. But still ardently falling to praise her body like a religion.

Then she faintly says," I had been given warnings about my studies into the Lunari. These … these scars..." she stops and his hands find her shoulder blades and trace the muscles and lines in her back going around and around like lethargic race cars." The council flogged… me telling me that I was a heretic."

"Shh. Diana they can't hurt you now."

Her tears slowed and the flood gates were closing. Her breath coming back in and the guardian arms lower the goddess to her feet and he begins to peel away the dress from her form. He muses dimly it was like a flower blooming, inch by precious inch more skin was exposed and his restraints were quickly fleeting his hands becoming more seeking but his mind steeling the shreds of control, absolutely determined to cherish the woman. A small smile sprouting on her face as she takes the final step and removes herself from the shell of a dress and she reaches for his collar pulling his ears to her lips she whispers,

"There's a small creek, follow me." As she saunters to the chest re-acquiring her chiton and two towels. He blindly follows, a man attempting to choke down lust in front of a mostly naked goddess is an easily persuaded man. He is enchanted by her sashay and he hears the soft babbles of a brook and his blood was waiting gasoline before he combusts from anticipation. Fingers fly to every button and zipper on his clothes savagely ripping at the linens. Her coy smile as she turns around and slowly pulls away the belt from her chiton and dauntingly unhooks the two fasteners at the top of her robe and in a whirl of fabrics she is bare. The combination of her past engraved on her back, the present, and the prospective future they shared Yasuo was almost jumping out of the death sentence they called pants. Eyes gluing to the form that could rival Aphrodite descend into the cool waters he tripped over his own feet tumbling to the banks. Melodic laughter chimed through the maples and he felt the weight of her tears coming the surface of his skin, finally descending into the water himself being cognizant of the salt stains rising from his skin, along with his inhibitions.

Surprisingly she beat him to it, her lithe form intertwining with his as she willingly walked into the storm he and she created. Each being stripping away the weight of being everything they were and tracing one and others bodies and finally colliding. Their catharsis, resulting in passion, the months of build up being purged by the introduction of each other's bodies.

The moon passionately kissing the horizon line, as the two lovers made their way to the Institute around 4:30 in the morning. They were finally together, connected. His hand encasing her smaller hand and he rubs the etched callouses on her hands. They meandered to the dorms where a third of the champions were passed out and another 40% were drunkenly fooling around, and the final 27% were probably following suit to the two lover's previous activities. Sloppily kissing her cheek he promises to be beside her for the rest of time.

Many years after when young bodies dull and time passes and the first generation of champions retire there is a small pact that they will not be seen again. So when the two were standing on their small porch in front of their cottage in the outskirts of Valoran where maples, oaks, and many evergreens grow. They were smiling at the small scenes of life that were spawns of Markus and Leona, and broody child of Varus and Morgana, and several of their companions from the fields of justice Yasuo bends over and smiles into Diana's ear and she responds with the words, for the rest of time.


End file.
